The Clique (9 page)

Kate’s doorbell rings. The familiar chime breaks her out of a conversation with her mom.

              “I’ll get it,” Kate offers. It only takes her three steps to reach the door from her mother’s office. She pulls the door open. “Hello?”

              “What’s fun, honeybuns?” Sean’s smiling face greets her. He holds out a bouquet wrapped in pink. “I got these for you. To apologize for last week, you know. I was being—“

              “Thank you,” Kate interrupts. “Hey mom, don’t these flowers look lovely?”

              “Oh.” Sean’s mouth drops open, but he quickly shuts it. “Your mom’s home? Hi Mrs. Simpson!”

              Kate’s mom—a kind woman, exactly the same height and hair color as her daughter—smiles. “Hello, Sean. Yes, Kate, those roses are lovely.”

              Kate takes the bouquet, turning it around in her hands. A dozen red roses. Her mom gives her a questioning look. “What is he apologizing for?

              “Mom!” Heat rushes to Kate’s face. “Nothing.”

              “Really? Then what’s this card about?” Kate’s mom frowns at a card from the center of the bouquet, that Kate hadn’t even noticed. “Happy bat mitzvah? Okay, now I really am confused.”

              Kate turns the bouquet so the card’s out of sight. “Don’t pry, mom.”

              “Fine.”

              “Can Sean and I go out?”

              “Now? Where are you going to go?”

              “I dunno. The mall or something.”

              Kate’s mom frowns. “But I was thinking you and I could do something to celebrate the weekend… Okay. I’ll be here when you get back.”

              “Thank you!” Kate slips on a pair of flip flops and walks down her front stairs with Sean, past the driveway and over to the other side of the road, where he’s parked.

              He opens the door. “That was a close one. I thought your mom was actually gonna read the card.”

              “Why, what’s it say?” Kate plops into the passenger seat and opens the card.
Mazel tov,
it says in a loopy font; under that,
Sorry I made you worry you weren’t the only girl I cared about, care about, or ever will care about.
The handwriting is definitely Sean’s.

              “Aww,” Kate says. “That’s so sweet.”

              Sean smiles. “I have my moments. Sorry I ambushed you in front of your mom.”

              “It’s alright. But—why a bat mitzvah card?”

              “I was trying to be funny. All the apology cards were too sappy.”

              Kate rolls her eyes.
“You’re so random sometimes.”

              Sean laughs. “Yeah, I know. So, how do you want to celebrate your bat mitzvah?”

              “I dunno. How do you usually celebrate bat mitzvahs?”

              “Hell if I know. I’m not Jewish.”

              “Me either. Well, you wanna go to the mall?”

              “Sure.” Sean pushes his car into gear.

             
The only one he’s ever cared about, cares about, or will care about.
Kate smiles broadly.

              “What are you smiling about?” Sean asks.

              “Oh, nothing. I love you.”

              “I love you too. Whoa, look at that car—“ he points at a lifted black truck “—that guy’s compensating for something.” The conversation shifts to all the strange cars they notice, and Kate finds herself getting bored. Cars don’t capture her interest the way they do Sean’s. He turns into a space outside JC Penney’s and takes her hand as they walk into the mall.

              “So, anything you wanna buy?”

              Kate shakes her head. “Not really. I just wanted to walk around.” Kate leads the way to Bath and Body Works, laughing at the way Sean pauses at the entrance. “Come on, let’s go in!”

              “You can. I’ll just stay here.”

              “Oh, come on. What’s the problem?”

              “Nothing. I just don’t want anyone to see me in there and think I’m, you know, gay.”

              Kate scoffs. “You’re with your girlfriend. How is that gay?”

              Sean glances at the pink walls of the store. He looks frightened, like the flowery scents might permanently diminish his masculinity.

              “If you come in with me, I’ll let you pick my perfume,” Kate promises.

              “You’re not gonna let me wait out here, are you?”

              Kate giggles. “Nope. Man up, Sean.” Before he can come up with another argument, she pulls him inside.

              Once they’re inside, Sean assumes an arm-crossed, jaw-clenched pose. In response, Kate sprays him with an orange tang cologne on his neck.

              “Mmm, that smells good.” She laughs at the scandalized look on his face. “Lighten up. I thought you had a good sense of humor.”

              “I do.” Sean rubs his neck where Kate sprayed the cologne, a smile slowly coming to his face. “Two can play at that game.” He picks up a watermelon perfume and sprays it on Kate.

              “Hey!” Kate grabs another cologne and returns fire. They spend about ten minutes finding new scents to foist on each other. Kate accidentally bumps into an overweight woman, and Sean nearly upends an entire shelf, as they run around the store trying every single perfume and cologne.

              “Okay, I think we have to stop,” Sean says. “I can see a cloud around both of us.”

              Kate laughs. “Yeah, me too. It tastes like peppermint.”

              “Naw, more like throat cancer.”

              She rolls her eyes. “Never mind. Did you like any of those?”

              “I honestly have no idea.”

              Kate’s pretty sure, despite the game, Sean won’t be willing to sit still while she tries all the scents again. “Here, I’ll just get the lilac.” She makes the purchase and they leave the store.

              “Have you noticed how people are, um, staying away from us?” Sean asks. Once he says it, Kate notices too: other shoppers turning up their noses and giving the couple a wide berth.

              “Oh well. It’s like our own personal bubble.”

              A pig-nosed lady taps Kate on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to disturb you, honey, but I think you should know. That perfume smells like garbage. And, um, you seem to have used a little too much.”

She’s completely thrown off by Kate’s snorting laugh. “No,” Kate manages to reply. “I think you’re wearing the garbage one, Sean.”

              “I am? Oh yeah, there was that one…“

              The lady looks at them both like they’re completely crazy, then frowns and walks off.

              Kate and Sean go down the escalators. The sounds of a guitar, and someone singing along to “The Gambler”—slightly off-key—echo along the first floor. The song gets louder as they head for the Apple store, until Kate spots the singer and guitar player in front of a fountain.

              “Mr. Silveris?” she can’t believe her eyes. Her English teacher is singing his heart out in a loud baritone, next to a grungy, greying man playing guitar. The guitar player’s eyes don’t quite line up, but he seems to be having fun.

              “Know when to fo-old em, know when to—“

              Kate walks closer. “Mr. Silveris?” she repeats, louder.

              “Oh, hey Kate. Never count your money, while you’re sittin’ at the table. There’ll be time enough for counting—“ Kate sits on the edge of the fountain while she waits for him to finish. Sean gives her a confused look, but she holds a finger to her lips to keep him from saying anything.

              Mr. Silveris finishes. “Great job, buddy.” He claps the guitar player on the back.

              “Mr. Silveris! What are you doing?” Kate asks.

              The teacher shrugs. “Jamming out. I met this guy playing for tips, figured we could have fun with a classic tune or two.”

              Kate giggles. “Carpe diem, right?”

              “You got it, kiddo.” He opens his arms for a hug. “Um, I don’t know how to tell you this Kate, but you smell—unique.”

              “Yeah, well, we were doing some carpe diem-ing of our own.”

              “Ah, seizing the day. Fantastic! I want to hear all about it, on Monday. But now, I have to—I’m supposed to get a toaster.”

              “What?”

              Mr. Silveris grins. “The downside of seizing the day, I’m afraid. Mrs. Silveris sent me out for a new toaster over an hour ago. Oh well.” He walks away, whistling loudly.

              The scruffy man shakes his head. “He’s a strange one.”

              “Uh huh,” Kate agrees.

              “I got a lot of tips, though, while he was singing.”

              Kate isn’t sure how to respond, so she settles on a slow nod.

              “I know some modern songs, too. The Taylor Swift and such.”

              It dawns on Kate what the man’s hinting at: he wants them to sing. She turns to Sean. “Do you wanna?”

              “Wanna what?”

              “Sing!” Kate takes a moment to gauge whether
she
wants to.
Yes! It’s what Aude would do, and Mr. Silveris too. It sounds fun.
“It’ll be like karaoke. Please?”

              Sean smiles. “Alright.”

              “Do you know ‘I Knew You Were Trouble?’”

              The guitar player frowns, adjusts a tab on his guitar. “Yeah, I reckon.” He plays the first few bars. “I got it.”

              Kate and Sean sing their hearts out, never hitting the right notes, but having more fun than ever. Smelling like garbage and making complete fools of themselves.

After school on Monday, Maddie waits anxiously for Mrs. Hopkins, the student council sponsor, to announce the election results. She runs through freshman officers first, then sophomores, and finally: “For Junior class President, the winner is—by a one-percent margin—Amanda Marsh!”

              Maddie claps. Good, but not good enough. Just like the Patriots. She feels a warm hand on her back.

              “I thought for sure you had it,” Aude says. “I’m sorry, I guess my speech just wasn’t that good.”

              “It wasn’t your fault, Aude. I just wasn’t good enough. I’m never good enough.”

              Aude’s brow wrinkles. “Don’t say that. You just—didn’t win. But the margin was smaller this year.”

              “Doesn’t matter. I still lost.”

              “But next year, you’ll win. Sophomore year, Amanda won by five percent, remember? And freshman year,
that
was a landslide.”

              Maddie deadpans her friend. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

              “Well, yeah. ‘Cause next year, you’re gonna win. You only need one more, tiny percentage point.” Audrey smiles. “And that isn’t so much. We’ll campaign harder next year. Just think of the look on Amanda’s face when you win, Miss Student Body President.”

              “I wish I had your optimism, Aude.” Maddie shakes her head. “I’m not gonna win. I’m not good enough.”

              “We could cut her,” Kate jokes. “Or get her kicked out. You know, nothing too serious. Just something bad enough that she has to step down as class president. Ooh, we could light her car on fire!”

              The girls giggle. “You know, her boyfriend hit on me last year,” Hannah says. “I could steal him away from her.”

              Maddie’s friends distract her with elaborate revenge fantasies, taking up the greater part of a half-hour. Kate cuts off mid-sentence, and Maddie feels a tap on her shoulder.

              “Hey, Maddie. Um, I just wanted to say, it was good running against you.” Amanda holds out a hand. “And I know you’ll make the best vice president.”

              Yeah, just like last year. And the year before. “Um, thanks. Congratulations. On winning, I mean.”

              “Thank you. Well, see you Friday.” Amanda walks back to her friends.

              Maddie turns back to the group. “Aude, were you glaring at her that entire time?”

              “Who, me?” Aude assumes an innocent expression. “Of course not! I would
never
.” She smiles. “Okay, maybe a little. But she deserves it.”

              “Why?” Maddie asks. “She won fair-and-square.”

              “Well she should’ve realized who she was running against and stepped down. No one makes our friend feel like she’s not good enough.”

              She isn’t the one who made Maddie feel that way. Not the first one, at any rate.
Maddie shakes her head.
“You said, if I lost, that we could get sloshed. You still up for it?”